Imperial Confident
by Kaiba Clouddrifter
Summary: Kall Shk'Urr is an Imperial Prisoner on the first Death Star. Can she overthrow the greater powers of the Empire to fulfill her deepest desires?


Imperial Confident  
by  
Nomi Jade (a.k.a. Mara Sunrider)  
  
Authors Note: This story takes place on the First Death Star at the battle of Yavin. It origianated at the Jedi Counsil Forums at the Force.net.  
  
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It's not right. Why are they in charge? I'll show them- someday.   
Kall Shk'uur's eyes glared out her window. This prison was her only home; shrouded with mystery and evil. The stars, besides the flickering candle beside her bed, were the only source of light. She could make the place burn into nothingness if she felt like it. But something warned her not to. A mind probe. Darth Vader.   
She cringed as the words slid out on her tounge like dust from her mind in a whisper. Those words; Darth Vader. She squinted. Her hate for him was deeper than the seas of Calamari- and he knew it, too. That is why she was made to suffer- that is why she was engulfed in this world of treachery.   
The metalic chrono on her left hand beeped.   
'Another part of this crude punishment.' Her eyes rolled as she slipped on her black jumpsuit. The single patch rested on the right shoulder, reading: "IMPERIAL CONFIDENT" and the wheel-like Imperial insigna, trimmed in white, was sewn in above it. Kall snickered. 'Confident! Foolish Imperials.... the day I'm their 'confident' is the day the Emperor's quarters is covered in floral wallpaper!' she thought. Her mind got the best of her. This would end- soon; for the galaxy was to large to give up. She'd be at the top again, like she used to. An Admiral and leader of Black Nova Squadron once, Kall had been taken from her honorary rank and put into this ridiculous possition- as a slave.   
She had the Force.   
She would use it.   
  
The Rebels assembled on the fourth Moon of the Gas Giant Yavin. The brilliance of the great orange sphere below shone through the windows, in deep contrast with the usual, black velvet that filled the glass.   
A mop. A bucket. How shameful Kall felt.   
As she cleaned up the mess in Corridor 99-B, level 19, Imperial Moffs- even newly recruited Trainee's- sneered at her. The dark beauty looked back, making a horrible face.   
'How un-ladielike,' she thought to herself.   
'But then again, mopping floors in a filthy janitors suit is not the most prim and propper thing to do, either'.   
Kall's mind drifted to the newest updates. Rebels were gathering below on Yavin IV, plotting an attack. As much as she despised of Darth Vader- he was clever. She had enough respect, although barely enough, to have confidence in his plan of defence. Or, considering the kind of man he was, his offence.   
She put the thought and any worry in the back of her mind and picked up the bucket. Only one more hall to go....   
Suddenly, the overhead comm crackled, and a young man's voice filled the thin corridor. Instantly, the ones traveling down the hall stopped, and looked up. To cocky Grand Admirals and Moffs, it was no more than a simple alert from a minor. They payed no heed unless it was a power greater or equal to speaking to them.   
"Rebel Forces invading in eight minutes, forty-nine seconds."   
They were correct indeed about the alert. But more worry struck the high-ranking officials than it should have. Something important would happen- Kall wouldn't fall for it. She knew what was going on; so, instead of heading to Hallway 100-A, she started towards the hangar- quite wary of the consequences she would face if her plan was foiled by her rivals.   
  
The officials were suspicious. Whenever they would inquire 'Where are you going?' she would reply ' To mop the other hall, sir.'   
Simple. It was a lie, but being an Imperial meant lying. It covered her, too. Kall wasn't ashamed she was an Imp, just that she was an Imp slave.   
The green lights on the walls blazed and loud screeching sent her hands flying to cover her ears. Through her gloved hands, though, she could here the man speak;   
" Rebel Pilots approaching Station! Repeat, Rebels approaching Station! All Imperial Pilots retreat to the hangar! Repeat-" Kall left the man to his words and dashed off with the group of pilots.   
  
A shiny black pilot's helmet covered her head. She was the only female in the hangar. The Imperials were quite prejudice when it came to anything but stern, light-skinned men. That's what boiled her blood- that's the reason she wanted to overthrow Darth Vader and all of his yes-men Moffs and Admirals. She wanted pure justice for the pain he had caused her. She would get it. Tonight.   
  
It felt so good to grip a TIE fighter's control stick once more. In relief from what she's been before, she knew now she was the same person as she had always been. A great Admiral in a non-sexist and non-racist Empire. Kall would be in control again.   
The single TIE Advanced fighter screeched through the stars. It was Darth Vader's. What she was about to do was the boldest thing she would ever do in her lifetime- but it was worth it.   
  
Kall placed her thumb on the fire button. The laser blasts would engulf the ship, and Darth Vader would die. She would smile, and fly away. Forever.  
AS she was about to attack the Sith Lord, her vain effort was stopped. An X-Wing class starfighter swept over her and fired, hitting her left-side wing. The TIE plummeted down to Yavin, but it had just enough power and Kall enough knowledge to make it to the hangar. Much time had passed, more than expected, since she had claimed her fighter. There were Rebels in a tiny trench near the hangar bay she had come from- perhaps they had found a weakness in this facility. No- never. Or could they have?  
Kall needn't worry about that at the time. She turned her small craft and made a screeching, rough landing. But she had made it. Kall would hop out of her almost-disentigrated ship, and pick another TIE to fly in. The trouble was, was she running out of time. Fast.  
" Rebel's closing in in thirty-two seconds. Report to the nearest hangar bay! Repeat, report to a hanger bay!"  
Kall hurried to the front of the bay, where a ladder, extending upward, led to another, new TIE fighter.   
" Rebel's in twenty seconds!"  
She scurried up and booted up the fighter.  
" Ten seconds!"  
She turned the stick outward.  
" Five!"  
The fighter lurched.  
"Four!"  
Kall passed other ships.  
"Three!"   
Getting closer....  
"Two!"   
Almost there....  
"ONE!"  
In her final glory, Kall shot out of the hangar bay, but it was to late. The flames engulfed he; she cried out. But more than dying, she was upset by the fact that Darth Vader would live. It wasn't fair. Life wasn't fair. But now, her life would end. Once ablaze, the fighter fell, torn to ashes, with Kall Shk'uur, once a powerful leader, now nothing but a simple causuality of the war between good and evil. The Force willed it that way. The Dark Side wasn't strong enough for her, but, she hoped, as her last thought, that the Light Side would prove to be even weaker. 


End file.
